Scotsmen and Blood Magic
by yorozuyagaren
Summary: Remember in the movie how Alasdair got killed? Ever wonder if there was some way of bringing him back? Well, one teenage witch may get her chance with a little help from our favourite phouka.
1. Chapter 1: Immortal Blood

A/N: This fanfic is hereby dedicated to Ginny, because I was stupid enough to not notice her message until it was too late. This has nothing to do with the story.

This, however, does. Garen, Rhianon, Pyry, Weasel, Maggie, and Jeremy are all my personal characters. See my website for more information on them, or if you're confused.

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Scotsmen and Blood Magic

Chapter 1: Immortal Blood

"Rhianon, ye can't be serious," Garen pleaded.

"Oh, I am," the girl insisted. "And you're going to help me with it, too."

"But ye can't bring someone back to life who's been dead near on three hundred years!"

"Watch me." Rhianon's face softened. "It's not all that difficult. You know about Einstein's theory on time travel, right?" Garen nodded. He'd only heard it five thousand times from Jeremy, who claimed to have put the idea into the scientist's head. "Well, according to that theory, time is like a river, flowing between two banks. So, in theory, it would be possible to get out of the river, and sit on one of the banks until the past catches up with you. In other words, time travel. And if you can go back in time, going forwards can't be much more difficult, can it?"

" I suppose so, but what does time travel have to do with bringing someone back to life?" Garen asked, a bit puzzled. Magical theory had never been his forte.

"Very little," Rhianon admitted. "To bring someone back, I'll need to do a little blood magic to open the gate between this realm and the realm of resting souls."

"Blood magic? Nuh-uh, no way. I am havin' nothin' to do with any blood magic."

"But the spell won't work with regular old human blood. I need immortal blood for it to work, particularly an immortal with some connection to the person being resurrected."

"No! You are not bringin' Alasdair MacGregor back from the dead. Can't ye leave him in peace?"

"But he was your friend, wasn't he?" Rhianon probed. "Wouldn't you like to see him again?"

"It's unnatural!"

"_Magic_ is unnatural, Garen," Rhianon pointed out. "Come to think of it, you yourself are unnatural. That's why I need a little of your blood for the spell."

That night, Garen lay awake in his bed, thinking about what Rhianon had said. It was true that he wouldn't mind seeing Alasdair again, swap some stories, catch up on old times. Drink and cause chaos. Alasdair had been nearly twenty-three when he was killed, plenty old enough to buy beer, unlike the older, but baby-faced Garen.

"Pyry, what do you think?" Garen said to his roommate in the other bed.

Pyry looked up from his book. "What do I think of what?" he asked.

"Rhianon wants to resurrect me old drinkin' buddy, Alasdair MacGregor."

"How long has he been dead?"

"Near on three hundred years."

Pyry put a bookmark in with a sigh. It looked to be a long discussion.

"How does she plan to do it?"

"Usin' my blood to open a gate between this realm and the realm of resting souls. I don't even want to know how she'll figure out whether he's restin' or reincarnated."

"Or haunting the area where he died," Pyry pointed out. "He was killed fairly violently, wasn't he? That type of spirit tends to stick around."

"They say that if a spirit's hauntin' or restin', you can call it back with something of theirs—" Garen paled, then swore.

"Didn't you say that you and Alasdair were blood brothers?"

Garen swore again. "So I've still got some of his blood in me. Theoretically the summoning should work. I hate it when Rhianon's right."

"She'll probably arrange some nasty way to get blood from you if you won't give it willingly. And who knows? Maybe if this works, you can get her to resurrect Maggie."

The glare Garen shot over at his roommate would have sent a lesser man running for his life. As it was, Pyry shivered. "Maggie is dead," Garen said. "I've come to grips with it after over five hundred years. If she were to suddenly be alive—I don't know how I'd face her. And there are risks—" He shook his head fiercely. "No, Maggie either stays dead, or gets reincarnated somewhere far away from me. I don't think I could bear it."

Pyry thought of Lily, their downstairs neighbor that Garen had admitted to having a crush on. Perhaps it was better for Maggie to stay dead after all.


	2. Chapter 2: Alasdair Comes Alive

Chapter 2: Alasdair Comes Alive

Rhianon looked over the preparations. Her dragon-shaped incense burner sat just outside the elemental circle drawn on the living room floor. The Book that she'd bought from some bum on the street sat open next to the incense burner. A dark purple candle stood on the other side of the Book. Weasel stood nearby with Garen's clothes, bandages and peroxide, a change of men's clothing for Alasdair, and four packages of Maru-chan instant ramen.

And Garen stood in the middle of the circle, wearing nothing but his green plaid boxers and feeling very sorry for himself.

"You're mad," he told Rhianon.

"No, just desperate. And after how you described him, how could I not want to meet him? So it's partially your own fault."

"But why do I have to be in just my boxers?"

Rhianon laughed a bit. "What, are you suddenly modest? You've never cared about it before, why should it make a difference now?"

"Well, if this works, and Alasdair gets brought back from the dead—"

"You were blood brothers. Don't tell me you two never went swimming together." Garen shifted from foot to foot uneasily. Much as he hated it, Rhianon had a point.

"Enough stalling," Rhianon stated. She grabbed a small silver knife and motioned to her prisoner. "You, hold out your hand."

Garen grabbed the knife away. "I'll do it," he said. "You take care of the incense and the mumbling, I'll take care of the sharp, pointy objects."

"Fine, but don't cut until I say so."

"Yes, ma'am," Garen said, saluting with his left hand.

"Good." Rhianon knelt in front of the incense burner and lit the stick of Dragon's Passion sticking out of it, then the moved on to the candle. Sitting crosslegged on the floor, she propped the Book in her lap and looked over at Garen expectantly. The fey took the hint and drew the knife deep across his palm, biting his lip as the silver blade left a line of deep red.

"Aileah mortuena, Alasdair MacGregor. I call upon thee, Alasdair MacGregor. "Lialma marcreda wieshdha. Come claim that which is yours." She turned to Garen, who was waiting for further orders. "Drip a little on each of the symbols," she told him. Garen walked slowly around inside the circle, squeezing his bloody fist so that a few drops fell on each of the four elemental symbols around the edge. Seeing that her will was followed, Rhianon returned to her chanting. "Elementia kuarta mactori minius. Create a physical form from the four elements. Earth for body, Fire for mind, Water for blood, Air for soul."

Garen jumped out of the way as the symbols burst to life one by one, pouring heavy, brightly coloured smoke into the center of the circle. He tried to run, but Weasel caught him by the knees. Garen went crashing to the floor, nearly crushing the toddler-sized minion.

Rhianon didn't seem to have noticed. "Aileah mortwen, so it be," she half shouted. She was standing now, her arms oustretched to the pile of smoke that was rapidly diminishing to reveal the form of a young man.

"Good gods, I think I'm in love," she muttered.


End file.
